Birdie (Levi x OC)

forty-nine

The carriage pulled up to the Capital building after a couple hours of extreme discomfort. At one point I had begun to nod off only to be awoken by the carriage hitting a rock, causing us all to lurch forward.

As expected, my Grandfather, Commander Pixis, was waiting on one of the steps by the ornate doors of the capital building.

He approached the carriage, Levi jumping smoothly off the bench where he had sat beside the driver. Levi and my grandfather helped me out of the door, followed by Hange and the others.

I wrapped my arms around my grandfather's neck.

"You look well," he said, eyeing me up and down, his gaze staying momentarily on the brace.

"All thanks to those guys," I nodded towards Levi and Hange.

"Captain Levi," Pixis nodded. "Commander Zoe," he grabbed Hange's hand, giving her a firm shake. Her eyes widened at the formal title but she said nothing, just offering a crisp salute.

"Once you're settled," he said, leaning toward me as if to block the others out of our conversation. "I need to speak with you about something important."

I raised my brow at him. "Oh? What about?"

He shook his head. "Later."

I narrowed my gaze at him and gave Levi a look. Levi looked questioningly at me. I shrugged at him in response.

Levi approached us. "I can take her things to our room." Levi nodded toward my grandfather. "Go ahead with him."

Pixis looked at me slightly warily. "Okay, let's go."

My grandfather led me to a small, secure private meeting room. Once the door clicked shut, the air felt thick with tension. He walked directly to a wooden cabinet and poured himself a drink from a whiskey decanter sitting on the desk. I watched the amber liquid fill the crystal glass. My grandfather didn't offer a word; he drank the entire amount in one gulp.

Placing his glass down with a decisive thunk, he turned to look at me, his face drawn. My eyes narrowed. "Grandpa, what is this about?"

"I saw your father," he said abruptly. The room stilled. I stopped breathing. I could feel the blood drain from my face.

My breath hitched. "M-My Dad?" I whispered. I hadn't seen my father in years. Even the word felt foreign on my tongue. Dad. I said nothing, my mind racing. I hadn't even known if he was alive.

"He was looking for you," Pixis continued.

"Why now?" I breathed, emotions overwhelming me. I breathed deeply, keeping the tears at bay.

My grandfather walked toward me, placing a large, reassuring hand on my cheek. "Trust me, he wasn't looking for a family reunion. He was looking for absolution."

"He's unwell, probably due to his drinking and his failed life," Pixis continued, his voice low and disgusted. "He's become obsessed with the idea that he needs your forgiveness to feel peace. He was demanding a way to see you, saying he can't go on until you reconcile with him."

Pixis ran a hand over his face. "I told him no. I told him explicitly that his presence here was unacceptable and to stay away from you. But he was drunk, and frankly, mentally unstable. He's desperate and obsessed."

My jaw trembled, and I stood paralyzed. My mind immediately flashed back to the last time I saw him. He was pathetic and drunk, but he was also hurting. The painful realization that he was suffering, even if it was self-inflicted, began to worm its way into my head.

"Maybe I should see him," I whispered. He's broken. What if a simple moment of contact is all he needs for closure?

"Absolutely not," my grandfather stated, his voice ringing with paternal authority. "He is not mentally well enough, Birdie. He is going to try to manipulate you for his own selfish needs."